


Mr. Bucky & Mr. Steve

by slashtext



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Artist Steve Rogers, Bucky is a science teacher, Drabble Collection, Elementary School, Everyone Is Gay, Gen, M/M, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Teacher Bucky Barnes, Teacher Sam Wilson, Teacher Steve Rogers, Tumblr Ask Box Fic, mild sexual innuendo but nothing more, school counselor, wholesome gay educators teaching kids to be well adjusted human beings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-04
Updated: 2018-12-04
Packaged: 2019-09-07 08:41:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 3,280
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16850827
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/slashtext/pseuds/slashtext
Summary: “Did you know he used to let them paint murals on bedsheets with super-soakers full of paint?”"I heard liked to play punk rock in the art studio.""I heard all the other teachers would hit him up for cough drops."





	1. September

**Author's Note:**

> This started with an anon ask, and blossomed into a series of disjointed, unrelated ficlets and ask responses on Tumblr. I am relocating the entire collection of posts to AO3 in the wake of Tumblr collapsing like a flan in a cupboard. 
> 
> Slash, what is this fic about? Here's what I remember: Steve is an elementary school guidance counselor who runs an after school art program? Bucky teaches middle school(?) science, and the two have a meet cute. Sam is also an elementary school teacher, whose husband, Riley, is 200% alive and well. Everyone is happy, nothing bad happens, there is little conflict (which is why this never made for a whole story).
> 
> But Slash, why is Steve Rogers an elementary school guidance counselor? I don't know, dear. This is all fantasy, and no sense. I think I wrote an explicit scene in the art room at some point, but I'm not sure where on earth it went.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mr. Steve has paint in his hair. Mr. Bucky has well-behaved 8th graders and some competition for coolest teacher in the district. It's all punk rock and cough drops from here on out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My first attempts at ficlets (and plot?) within this verse.
> 
> I can't remember who Janet was, so maybe go ahead and imagine her as Janet from The Good Place.

## Mr. Steve: September

By the time he reached his office, Steve already had paint in his hair. He wasn’t sure if was leftover from yesterday’s after school art club, or something he had picked up on the way out the door, but all he could do was hope no one had noticed. 

“So,” Sam said, leaning gracefully in Steve’s door frame with a glass of orange juice. Steve wasn’t really sure he’d ever seen the man without some kind of breakfast food, but it was pretty helpful, since without those cues Steve would never remember to eat. “Principal Romanoff says she likes your Disney pop star look." 

Sam gestured at the blue and red streaked through Steve’s blond bangs. 

Steve groaned as he tried to find his reflection in the hallway-facing window. "What is this, blue? Green?" 

"Blue and red,” Sam informed him. “Leftover from yesterday?”

“I took a shower,” Steve shot back, picking paint flecks out of his hair. “The paint’s out to get me.”

“Yeah, that pretty much sums up elementary school education.” Sam smiled, surveying the empty hallway. In about a half hour it would be flooded with students, half-assedly attempting to keep their voices and footsteps to a dull roar. “C'mon, I got breakfast." 

"Oh, thanks, Sam, but y'know, pastries are a little too sweet for me.”

“Yeah, that’s what you said yesterday. So I got bagels,” Sam replied, ushering Steve towards his office next-door. “Unless you’re some kinda godless heathen who hates bagels and probably America.”

“Look at my hair, Sam. I’m very committed to this nation." 

 

* * *

 

* * *

 

## Mr. Bucky: September

Bucky could have sworn the kids were getting nicer. Not that his past students had been horrible, but the new eighth graders seemed more pleasant somehow - calmer, more respectful. They actually smiled, which was usually suspicious, except that these kids seemed to really mean it. When he did his opening science trick - setting water on fire - they really laughed, not because they felt awkward, but because they actually thought it was cool. 

“Honestly, I’m just used to having to work harder,” Bucky told the other science teachers over lunch. “Did we make Stepford one of our feeder schools?”

“No, I had the same thing,” Janet replied. “One of them actually asked me about after school programs. And none of the taller boys tried to pick me up.”

“Suspicious.”

“Hey, I’m not complaining.” Janet shrugged. 

 

* * *

 

Eighth graders usually came in a little jaded. After the shine of middle school wore off, they were all trying to make the most of one year on top before becoming high school freshmen at the bottom of the ladder. Most of them were too busy showing off and beating up seventh graders to really pay attention in class. Setting things on fire usually helped, but even then Bucky only got questions like, “what are we gonna burn next?" 

These kids looked genuinely interested when he started talking about the laws of motion. The cheerfulness was off-putting to the point that Bucky almost missed the salty, pubescent rage from his past students. It’s not like he signed up to be a middle school teacher so he could deal with happy people. Janet was the only person who could be that happy without ulterior motives.

"I figured it out.” Bucky slammed a binder down at the lunch table, sloshing some of Janet’s coffee out of her mug. 

“Not this again,” Janet mumbled around a bite of sandwich.  

“It took me all week, but I went through all the student records and I found a pattern." 

"You have crazy eyes.”

 "I’m a science teacher - we all have crazy eyes. Look at this.“ He shoved the binder across the table, opening to a crisp, printed spreadsheet. "All these happy kids came from the same elementary school - Bridgewater.”

“You say ‘happy’ like it’s a bad thing, Barnes.”

Bucky rolled his eyes as he flipped through more spreadsheets. “I’ve never seen eighth graders this well-adjusted. Especially not from  _Bridgewater,_ I mean, that place is kind of a dump.”

“So it’s a conspiracy,” Janet sighed, paying more attention to her food than the binder. 

“Hey, could be,” Bucky said in a low voice. “Maybe it’s brainwashing.”

 

* * *

 

Luckily, the kids were more talkative than Janet - which was also disconcerting, considering how much Janet could talk. 

“I like your fractals, Mr. Barnes,” one student said after class, stealing a few minutes to stop and admire the gallery he had hanging around the whiteboard. 

“Thanks, Leslie,” Bucky replied, a little startled. “We’ll be studying them later.”

“Really?” Leslie beamed at him with a sparkling, toothy grin that seemed out of place over her Nirvana t-shirt and combat boots. “The Julia set is my favorite." 

"Mine, too,” Bucky said, turning to look up at the bright lines spiraling around each other. “How long have you been interested in fractals?”

“Mr. Steve taught us about them in art class." 

Bucky tried to ask more, but a bell sent Leslie barreling out of the classroom without another word. 

 

* * *

 

After that, Bucky couldn’t stop hearing about "Mr. Steve” all over the school. It wasn’t just his eight graders talking about him - even the seventh grade was obsessed. Everyone missed his after-school art program, and a couple of the students even went back to volunteer with him at Bridgewater Elementary. 

“You’re crazy if you think there’s a connection,” Janet said. “This batch probably just had better parents or something. Or maybe their schools were better funded. It’s not just one random guy.”

“Did you know he used to let them paint murals on bedsheets with super-soakers full of paint?” Bucky asked, slumped over the lunch table. He wasn’t trying to take notes on the guy, but some of the stories were too unbelievable to forget. 

By the time Halloween rolled around, he had learned that Mr. Steve wore sweater vests, enjoyed fractal art and Depression-era movie posters, drank hot tea no matter how warm it was outside, and was so beloved of the neighborhood cats that they would follow him to school. 

Janet shook her head and smiles. The more the kids talked about Mr. Steve, the more she wanted to talk about him, too. “One of my kids was bragging that he was finally taller than Mr.Steve - apparently he’s really tiny. Like, under 5 foot.”

“Shorter than you?” Bucky balked. “What, is this guy in his nineties?”

“I don’t know. I heard liked to play punk rock in the art studio." 

"Yeah, well I heard all the other teachers would hit him up for cough drops, so he can’t be that badass.”

“Don’t be so sure.” Janet smiled, leaning in and lowering her voice. “I heard he stopped some kid’s mom from getting robbed. Broke the mugger’s nose." 

Bucky sank down over the table with a groan. "I’ll never get to be the cool teacher again.”

“Oh, please.” Janet rolled her eyes. “Half the girls in my class are begging to be transferred to the 'hot biker teacher with the Middle Earth hair,” so don’t even start.“ 

"Middle Earth is over, Jan,” Bucky sighed mournfully against the plastic tabletop. “Kids these days are all hyped up on punk rock and cough drops." 

 


	2. Ask Box Origins

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A collection of asks and replies that kicked off this universe, and kept it growing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Most of these asks were done in plain dialogue, with no other context but the ask, and I have chosen to present them that way a) because it represents a very Tumblr style of storytelling, and b) because I have a cold, and can't be bothered to add narration

#  Mr. Steve: The Early Posts

* * *

 

“Mr. Steve, a bully keeps pushing me down on the playground.”

“WELL YOU SHOULD PUSH HIM -”

”-  _to make better life decisions and be kinder to people_.”

“Right, what Sam said.”

 

* * *

“Mr. Steve!! Tommy put paint on me!!”

“And why did Tommy put paint you?”

“Um.”

“Did you try to steal his brush again?”

“Yes.”

“Then you deserved it. Give him his brush back.”

“Yes, Mr. Steve.”

* * *

 

**[tilthedustsettles](http://tilthedustsettles.tumblr.com/) replied to your post:**

**"Mr Steve! MR STEVE-Emily dipped my ponytail in the inkwell again!"**

**"Emily, don’t dip Bucky’s ponytail in the inkwell. Bucky - don’t call me 'Mr Steve.' If I knew you were gonna be as bad as the kiddies I wouldn’t have asked you to help out…"**

“You’re just jealous because the kids like me better. Hey, Emily! Want to use my ponytail as a paintbrush?”

“Are you seriously encouraging them to put stuff in your hair?”

“It’s for  _art,_ Steve.”

* * *

 

“This is my boyfriend, Mr. Barnes. I mean -  _Bucky_  - sorry.”

“No, no, Mr. Barnes is fine, if you want to pretend we’re in a Victorian novel, Mr. Steve. Er, Rogers - Mr. Rogers?”

“Mr. Rogers works. I mean, maybe not  _here,_ though. We are in public, Mr. Barnes." 

"Ooh - yeah let’s save that for later.”

* * *

 

**[tilthedustsettles](http://tilthedustsettles.tumblr.com/) replied to your post: **

**Mr Steve would love to say he was surprised when the end of term team project turned out to be a mosaic of a certain brunet with an all too recognisable shit-eating grin. Instead he just had to sigh and try not to punch Bucky too hard in the arm.**

“You’re so vain, you probably think this painting is about you.”

“Yeah, I really do. It’s beautiful.”

“Are you…tearing up?”

“It’s says ‘World’s Best Science Teacher,’ Steve. Have you no heart?”

“I have a heart. And eyes. And my eyes can tell that they got your mouth completely wrong.”

“Only because you spend so long staring at it.”

“Shut up, Mr. Barnes.”

* * *

 

“Well, Mr. Barnes, here we are at home. Not in public.”

“What are you suggesting,  ** _Mr. Rogers_**  - woah, nope. Nope, I can’t do that.”

“Yeah, no, I just heard it. Oh my god." 

"We were watching an episode in class yesterday - oh my  _god.”_

“I’m gonna go take a shower.”

“Me too. In a… different bathroom.”

* * *

 

**[razorbelle](http://razorbelle.tumblr.com/) replied to your [post](http://sonickitty.tumblr.com/post/112192817260/arande-nim-replied-to-your-post-razorbelle-replied): **

**AHAHAAAAAAA. *gleehands* I feel like Steve ends up always being Mr. Steve, both to the kids AND to Bucky when he can get away with it (because he’s a shit) but Steve always calls Bucky ‘Mr. Barnes’ at school even though the kids call him Mr. Bucky.**

LOL and Steve acts like it’s because he’s trying to be professional, but he’s always winking at Bucky in the hallways.

So Bucky calls him Mr. Steve at home to get back at him, but Steve secretly thinks it’s adorable. 

* * *

 

**[razorbelle](http://razorbelle.tumblr.com/) replied to your [post](http://sonickitty.tumblr.com/post/112194061160/razorbelle-replied-to-your-post-arande-nim):**

**Because Steve is a loser who doesn’t want to be called ‘Mr. Rogers,’ yet can’t wrap his head around calling Bucky ‘Mr. Bucky.’**

**The kids probably wondered at first who ‘Mr. Barnes’ was “OH! MR BUCKY” but now they just ignore it and tell him**

SO Accurate. Because to Steve, “Bucky” is that silly (beautiful, adorable, ridiculous) name from when they were kids, so putting “mister” in front of it just sounds hilarious. He’s never been able to say it with a straight face. At least “Mr. Barnes” actually sounds real and grown up -“Mr. Bucky” sounds like something Bucky would have wanted to be called when they were 4 years old and pretending to be firemen. 

 

* * *

 

Mr. Bucky makes all the students behave by promising to show them his tattoos if they’re good - he has a giant fractal tattooed on his left arm because he is a big, cute, nerd. 

Mr. Steve makes his students behave by not even trying. Seriously, he gives way fewer shits than his students and it’s really unsettling to them. I mean, acting out is no fun if the teacher just stares menacingly at you while holding a super-soaker full of paint. Besides, if you’re good, he lets you shoot the super-soaker and make art out of guns because  _metaphors._

 

* * *

**[razorbelle](http://razorbelle.tumblr.com/) replied to your [post](http://sonickitty.tumblr.com/post/112284351085/eeeeeeee-you-wrote-the-school-teacher-au-up): There’s a breakfast thing that they help with in the morning, isn’t there? We had one of those in high school in case kids didn’t get enough food at home in the mornings. :P DO THEY MAKE PANCAKES ON FRIDAYS WITH APRONS.**

OH MAN that is PERFECT. I’m envisioning the Mr. Steve bit I posted is like a prequel to the stuff from Bucky’s POV - the first year Steve worked at the elementary school. Sam has been there for a while, and sure they have donuts and coffee in the teacher’s lounge, but Sam has  _standards_. Also, apparently his new coworker doesn’t feed himself, and that’s just sad. 

But HELL YES THEY MAKE PANCAKES ON FRIDAY. Lovely, healthy pancakes that Steve actually likes, topped with yogurt and berries for Steve and maple syrup for Sam. 

### “First you wash the red and blue out of your hair and now you don’t like syrup? What about democracy, Steve?”

### “What about freedom? I find your prejudice against healthy pancakes very un-American.”

 

* * *

**[im-the-punk-who](http://im-the-punk-who.tumblr.com/) replied to your [post](http://sonickitty.tumblr.com/post/112444462115/i-came-into-this-whole-schoolteacher-au-thing): **

***MAKING OUT IN THe LOUNGE* Sam Wilson: THAT IS NOT WHAT THIS SPACE IS FOR**

“That’s what you and Riley use it for.”

“DO NOT BRING MY HUSBAND INTO THIS.”

 

* * *

 

**[tilthedustsettles](http://tilthedustsettles.tumblr.com/) replied to your post: **

**super soakers. daaaaaamn rogers, good call.**

Well, the kids say it was super-soakers, but…

“Okay, super-soakers are a bit of an overstatement,” Steve said, smiling over the rim of his coffee mug. “You know how kids like to exaggerate.”

“I’m crushed.” Bucky shook his head. He’d been half in love with the idea of a wheezy ninety year old art teacher firing paint out of a water gun. “I can’t believe the school system didn’t jump on that. Could have paired very well with gun safety." 

"That’s what I told Natasha! It’s a good way to subvert the imagery of firearms.” Steve tried to keep a serious delivery, but his lips kept slipping into a smile, the way they always did around Bucky. “But no, we used turkey basters.”

Bucky threw back his head with a laugh. “Well, I can see why they lied about that.”

* * *

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Huge thanks to:   
> Razorbelle  
> arande-nim  
> tilthedustsettles  
> Wrengi-Und-Steeb


	3. Mr. Steve & Mr. Sam

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A brief interlude with Steve & Sam, meeting in an elementary school workplace setting. When I say brief, I mean brief.

As soon as Steve met Sam, he knew he’d gotten lucky. Most of the guidance counsellors Steve remembered from his elementary school were stuffy, jowly women, who had no idea went on behind their backs. If a bully pushed him on the playground, Steve pushed back, and they both wound up in detention, doing Mrs. Pain’s mind-numbing friendship worksheets while the bully of the week poked Steve with a pencil to see how may bruises he could make. 

Sam Wilson was the opposite of jowly. He looked like the kind of guy to smile for cameras while he was running charity marathons, and because Steve was terminally awkward around attractive people, he told him so. 

Sam just laughed, showing off an absolutely charming gap between his front teeth. “I don’t know man, last time someone snapped picture of me at one of those things I looked like I was gonna hurl.”

“But yes to the running for charity, then.” Steve tried to check Sam out without being conspicuous. It was clear he was doing more than just running to get arms like that. 

“Guilty,” Sam replied, still smiling. “A lot of the teachers here do Relay for Life. You wanna join up this year?”

“Oh, I’m usually the guy passing out water at those things.”

“That’s good because if I’m being honest,” Sam said, peeking over his shoulder for effect, “I’m usually the guy passing out.”


	4. Mr. Bucky: Valentines Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A brief interlude with Bucky dodging valentines. When I say brief I mean brief.

Darcy warned Bucky about the school-wide obsession with his love-life, but he didn’t quite believe her until several of his students - all girls - started asking him about his favorite candy and which local restaurants he thought were the most romantic. 

One of his more self-assured students ambushed him after school, flanked by her standard posse, to ask permission to send him Valentines. 

“I just want to make sure it’s okay with your girlfriend,” Amanda said, brown eyes made wider by the sweeping false lashes she wore every day. 

Bucky knew he was walking into a trap. It was his first year teaching, and he wanted to look professional, so he’d been quiet about his love life: not giving any indication that he was or wasn’t dating, and definitely not dropping any clues about his sexuality. 

“Who said I had a girlfriend?” He responded wryly, trying to make his smile less of a grimace. 

“Boyfriend?” Amanda pushed, crowding so close Bucky almost tripped on her. 

“Nope,” Bucky said. He slipped around her and took off down the hall like he had a class to catch. 

The next morning, his desk was overflowing with construction paper hearts and Reese’s cups.


	5. The Oblivious Meet Cute

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Mr. Bucky met Mr. Steve, and had absolutely no idea.

There was one 7-Eleven between Bucky’s townhouse and the middle school, and it was the most beautiful place in the world on a Monday morning. Bucky stumbled through the doors rumpled and stiff from the late winter chill, and made a bee line for the French roast, already perking up from the familiar smell of burned coffee and the slurpee syrup carpeting the linoleum. 

This early in the morning, Bucky usually wasn’t aware of much more than his commute and his caffeine, but he noticed the blond guy slamming his hand down to fill a large, red cup up to the brim with Columbian. He looked too well-dressed to be a student, with plaid lapels poking out of a sensible sweater and pea coat, but he was smaller than some of Bucky’s eighth graders. The coffee hissed out of the pot, and Bucky felt himself waking up as the guy’s scowl melted away in the steam from his coffee. It fogged up the guy’s glasses, too, and he swore under his breath.

“Lemme get that,” Bucky said, holding his hand out to take the cup. 

“Shit, thanks.” 

The guy wiped his heavy-framed glasses carelessly on his sweater, and when he fit them back on his face, his blue eyes were wide and stormy underneath them. He held out his hand, and Bucky shook it. 

“Fuck - you meant the coffee,” Bucky mumbled, and the guy just laughed, shooing away his embarrassment. It was a nice laugh, low and quick, and it left a smile on his face that clashed with the early morning gloom. Bucky handed over his coffee, and poured himself a cup of Columbian roast without a second thought. “Hey, can you pass me a French vanilla and a Hazelnut?” 

The guy scowled again, giving him a once-over. “Creamer?” 

Bucky gave him a shrug and a yawn. “How else do you keep this stuff from burning your mouth off?”

That got a smile, and the guy slid over the creamers, which Bucky dumped one by one into his drink. 

"I usually go for ice cubes,” he said, and Bucky gaped at him. 

“You’re a godless heathen.” 

“And diabetic.” 

Bucky winced. “And I am not a morning person. Can you tell?” 

“I got a rough idea,” the guy replied, still sporting that cheeky smile. Bucky figured he couldn’t be failing that miserably. 

The guy lifted his coffee cup in a toast and headed for the register, while Bucky was left behind, idly stirring his coffee and reminding himself that asking for a person’s number in a 7-Eleven was never a good start to a relationship. 

“You should have gotten his number,” Darcy said at lunch. 

“Well of course you’d say that,” Bucky groaned. He’d only brought up the mystery coffee guy once, maybe twice, and the girls wouldn’t let it go. 

“I feel like that’s a slight on my character,” she said. “Don’t insult me when I’m pointing out your mistakes.”

“Who the hell picks up guys in a 7-Eleven?” Bucky asked. “Creepy people - that’s who.”

“Oh, Bucky, you’re not creepy,” Janet assured him. 

Darcy nodded. “Doesn’t matter how creepy you’re not if you never see him again.”

“True,” Janet said. “How are you gonna find him again?”

“I’m not gonna stalk him!” 

“Really?” Jane asked, finally looking up from her tablet. “Five bucks says you come into work with a 7-Eleven coffee cup tomorrow.” 

“No way,” Bucky scoffed. “I have pride, guys.” 

He really wasn’t going back. And if he did, he’d make sure to leave the evidence in his car.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's it! That's all we wrote. I never could come up with a compelling plot for this 'verse, or a compelling reason for Steve to work at an elementary school. If the inspiration strikes you, run with it! Make this concept your own; you have my full blessing. <3


End file.
